


The Boys Of Summer

by sweet_disposition



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Boat Sex, Boats and Ships, Drinking, Gay, M/M, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Smoking, all the sex, eventually, summertime, yusss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 13:14:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1780390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweet_disposition/pseuds/sweet_disposition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis isn't sure how he let it get this far, but somehow after a joint or two Zayn's idea to spend summer in the States doesn't seem so bad. That is until he's landed at O'Hare with little but a passport, work visa, and suitcase full of clothes and weed to his name. Harry is Ivy League bound, much to his dismay, and has been sent to the city to get used to life in the States. Niall appears as Louis and Zayn's neighbor with a guitar and a heart of gold. Liam, well he's Harry's pretty but a little bit misguided best mate. What will happen when these 'Boys of Summer' all come together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Summertime and the living is easy?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musiclily88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclily88/gifts).



> This fic is basically a giant love letter to American summers, summer in Chicago in particular, including; boats, gay pride fest, beach drinking, and lots of debauchery in general.

Louis isn’t sure how he let things get this far, one minute he was sharing some spliff with Zayn and daydreaming about how American summers seemed so much better than ones in the UK and the next he was on a plane to a city he’d never been to with little but a work visa and passport to his name. “Still can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” He huffed as he sipped his room temperature beer from the little airline plastic cup.

“You were blazed out of your mind, wasn’t too hard mate. Besides you need a little change in scenery, you know if you stayed in Manchester your summer would have been spent groaning over Eleanor. Never liked her much and I don’t like her any more now that you’ve broken up.”

“Fuck off, not everyone can get laid as easily as you. Some of us have to maintain some sort of relationship if we even want to think about a good shag,” Louis retorted with the slightest edge of bitterness. “No matter though, she’s not worth my time. Dumped me because she found out I dated blokes before her. I don’t have time for that sort of close-mindedness.” 

“Yeah, that was a load of shit. So what you’ve sucked a few cocks! Who hasn’t?” Zayn laughed with a shrug of his shoulders, dumping a bit more of his tiny bottle of whiskey into his plastic cup. 

“Apparently some guy named Aiden, that’s who she’s left me for. Though I’m not entirely convinced, I’ve always seen Aiden as a sort of camp name. I bet an Aiden would be brill in the sack,” Louis joked with a sarcastic snort, downing the last of his beer.

“You’re a sick bastard, you know that? But that’s why I keep you around, bro,” Zayn muttered, clapping Louis on the shoulder as the intercom announced that they were beginning their descent into Chicago. “Bottoms up,” he cheered, lifting his glass and chugging what was left of his whiskey.

***

It’s about one thousands degrees in the cab, at least that’s what Louis guesses. The seats are made of a dark vinyl and he’s already sweat clear through the skinny jeans that he deeply regrets wearing. “Fuck, it’s hot here. I thought Chicago was supposed to be cold, like wasn’t there some polar vortex or summat?” he commented, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. 

“Lou, it’s June. It’s summer, like proper American summer.” Zayn groaned, shaking his head at his best mate’s stupidity. “It gets bloody hot here. Have you seen all the movies about summer vacations and what not?” he asked incredulously as the cab driver, an older Indian man, muttered into his Bluetooth, probably mocking them.

“What’s it with everyone here? Does anyone ever get off their phones?” Louis grumbled, looking out the window at the all the people stuck in traffic next to them with their bluetooths or headphones glued to their ears. “Ah well at least the view is nice.” He shrugged after a moment, glancing over to the clear blue lake just beyond the crowded expressway. 

“Yeah, I guess the beach is a big deal here. Doubt I’ll ever see it though, I’m sure Uncle Ahmed will keep me busy,” Zayn mumbled lazily, flicking the cap of his lighter open and closed. 

“Itching for a fag?” Louis observed, laughing at the way Zayn was almost twitchy, fingers never leaving his lighter.

“Fuck, yes. I’ve just sat on a transatlantic flight for eight hours! This is probably the longest I’ve gone without smoking since I was thirteen,” Zayn whined, glancing down to the square bulge, a tin full of roll ups in his pocket. 

“You can smoke in the cab. Just roll down the windows,” the cabbie offered seemingly out of nowhere. 

“Really?” Zayn perked up, yanking the tin of cigarettes out of his pocket clumsily. “Cheers mate! Or god bless America, some shit like that” He nodded, hands shaking as he picked up the fag and lit it, the mere click of the lighter seeming to calm his body.

“You are ridiculous,” Louis teased, bumping Zayn’s shoulder and laughing as he watched him blow smoke rings out of the window. “You’re gonna die young,” he taunted, leaning back against his seat with a sigh.

“Yeah, probably. S’okay with me, growing old terrifies me. Besides I’m an artist, it’s what we do. We create beautiful shit while simultaneously destroying ourselves until we implode. It’s poetic or something,” Zayn rebuffed, cigarette perched between his lips perilously. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m spending the summer with Britain’s most pretentious little shit. Lucky me.” Louis groaned, rolling down his window and slipping his aviator sunglasses onto his face. “Guess I shouldn’t count on you to go out and enjoy the sunshine with me?” He yawned, resting his elbow on the door. 

“Probably not. I’m more of a nocturnal sort of creature. You know that. You’ll just have to find a more sunny sort of friend to accompany you.” Zayn snorted, flicking the ash from his cigarette out the window.

“Perhaps I will,” Louis huffed defiantly, turning away from Zayn and watching the sailboats move about effortless on the lake. 

***  
Their flat isn’t much, it’s old—vintage Zayn’s uncle Ahmed assures them, but Louis or Zayn can’t really complain. Actually they were quite lucky that when Zayn brought up the possibility of spending the summer in the states with Louis that his father was generous enough to call his brother. And so that was that, the agreement was that Louis and Zayn could stay in the flat above his Uncle’s shop so long as Zayn put in his time working in the shop. 

“Not so shabby eh?” Louis mused as he laid on the threadbare sofa in the living room and stared up at the dusty ceiling fan, finding the repetitive motion captivating and oddly soothing.

“I suppose if you look past the peeling paint on the windowsills and the obvious water damage on the ceiling—then yeah, it’s not so bad.” Zayn laughed, walking into the room with a rolled joint between his fingers. 

“Now that’s how you throw a house warming! Come ere you!” Louis drawled out, making grabby hands at the joint.

“Not so fast,” Zayn tutted, tucking the item in question behind his ear. “I was thinking we could take this party out on the back deck,” he suggested, thumbing toward the back door with a wolfish grin.

“Sometimes I wonder why I don’t just ask you out and call it a day, you gorgeous boy, you.” Louis chuckled with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

“Babe, you can’t keep up with me even if you tried. It’d never work out between us,” Zayn taunted, raising an eyebrow at Louis before sauntering toward the kitchen and out the back door.

“I’d still try if it meant I got to fuck ya and smoke your weed,” Louis called after Zayn teasingly, sitting up on the couch with a groan and muttering something about jetlag before following Zayn outside. 

“It’s nice out here, innit?” Zayn asked, already leaning up against the railing of the deck with the lit joint between his fingers, gray smoke dissolving in the cool night air. “If you stand on your toes and squint really hard you can almost see the Hancock building.” He laughed, taking a hit and passing the spliff to Louis.

“Oh yeah, I see it now,” Louis scoffed, shaking his head as he spotted the red blinking lights in the distance. “We’re quite posh, sharing a joint with a near view of the city sky line on our not so private balcony,” he carried on sarcastically, gesturing over to the neighbor’s deck , which was only about six inches away from theirs. “Hope we’ve got good neighbors or this could suck,” he thought aloud, taking a long hit and passing it back to Zayn.

“Yeah, they’re well within pissing distance so let’s hope they’re chill.” Zayn nodded, inhaling and blowing smoke above his head with a long sigh. “Maybe if we’re lucky it’ll be some fit girls—or boys.” He chuckled as he leaned against a post.

“Yeah maybe.” Louis shrugged, finishing up the last bit of the joint before stubbing it out on the railing. “Well I’m totally knackered, now that I’ve got a good buzz going I think I’m going to settle in for the evening,” he announced, giving Zayn’s shoulder a gentle pat. 

“Yeah, go on then. I’m going to sit out here for a while, ride out the high.” Zayn smiled, eyes hooded as he continued to stare at the lights in the distance, barely registering the click of the back door as Louis closed it behind him.

He sat there in silence for a few minutes and was about call it a night when he saw the light next door flick on and heard the door squeak open. He tried his best not to stare as he watched a blonde lad emerge onto the porch with a guitar slung over his shoulder. 

For some inexplicable reason, Zayn felt the need to hide, as if he were intruding even though he was on his own balcony, so he did what any responsible adult would do, sat down in a ball on the floor in an attempt to hide. He cringed internally as the neighbor’s eyes darted in his direction for a moment before setting his guitar down on a chair. Then as soon as he had appeared, he retreated back into his apartment. 

Zayn let out a sigh of relief, thanking whatever gods that were looking over him that he was not spotted cowering like some sort of creep. He chalked it up to dumb luck and stood up to head back into his flat before his luck ran out. But it would seem that it already had run out, just as he placed his hand on the knob the neighbor was back with a beer in his hand.

“Hiya,” the blonde lad called out, waving with his free hand. 

“Uh hi,” Zayn mumbled lamely, wishing he could be invisible, that happened sometimes right? Maybe if he was lucky some sort of radioactive spider or rat would bite him and give him freakish superpowers before he could embarrass himself. 

“Everything alright?” the neighbor asked, glancing over at Zayn with furrowed eyebrows.

“Yeah, fine, just um cold. Going inside, bye,” Zayn rushed out, pushing the door open and stepping inside just as he heard the neighbor call out, “My name’s Niall.” 

“Shit,” he muttered to himself once he was safely inside, leaning against the kitchen wall. Their neighbor was fit and he noticed him, bloody hell he even tried to make contact with him and he’d already fucked up. He couldn’t go back outside now, he’d look like a absolute nutter. Though, he did say he was cold—maybe, he thought, he could put on a hoodie and go back. Just for a few minutes he told himself. 

Five minutes, a shot of whiskey and one hoodie later , he found himself back out on the deck. He was relieved to see that neighbor boy—Niall, hadn’t left and was deep in thought, jotting down notes as he played his guitar. Zayn hadn’t really looked closely before, and now that he had more time he noted that his fingers looked long and graceful as they plucked at his guitar strings. Fuck, he was in trouble.

“Hey, welcome back!” Niall called out cheerily once he noticed Zayn.

“Sorry about earlier, my name is Zayn,” Zayn replied, leaning against the railing again and trying to appear casually interested rather than entranced by the boy’s sparkling blue eyes, Irish drawl, and elegant fingers.

“Nice ta meet ya Zayn. You’ll have to pop by sometime for a beer or something. I’d offer ya one right now but this is my last one.” He chuckled as he wrapped his lips around the bottle and swigged the last bit.

“It’s okay, I should be going to bed soon.” Zayn shrugged, finally feeling a bit fuzzy around the edges from the joint he’d shared with Louis and the shot of whiskey he’d taken before coming back. 

“Too bad, I was going to ask you what you thought of the song I’m writing.” Niall frowned, picking his pen and paper back up.

“Another time.” Zayn smiled, turning back toward the door with a small wave.

“Yeah, see ya around neighbor.” Niall chuckled, his laugh carrying through the chilly air like tinkling bells.

“Yeah, bye neighbor.” Zayn blushed, rushing back into the flat and locking the door behind him. He was thankful to find that Louis was already snoring on the sofa in the lounge and unable to give him shit about why he’d been out on the deck so long. 

That night Zayn pulled the covers up around his body and closed his eyes, unable to shake the image of the pretty boy next door with the infectious laugh and nimble fingers. Fuck, those fingers would be the death of him. And if Zayn had a quick wank, thinking about those fingers and that face, that was between him and whatever god cursed him with a neighbor as endearing as Niall.


	2. Brighter than the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis has a chance encounter with a boy that shines brighter than the sun and Zayn finally gets a shot to redeem himself with the boy next door.

Only three days after landing, Louis decided that dealing with pipes and hookahs all day was rather dull work. He felt bad leaving Zayn’s uncle one person short on his staff, but he was rather enjoying his new work at the Gold Coast Yacht Club. It wasn’t easy working on the docks but he was back by the water and in the sun. It was familiar work, having spent his summers with his stepdad at Brighton, taking his sailboat out on the water. 

The sun was beating down on him, radiating through his clothes, and warming his skin as he began his rounds, making sure all the boats were securely tied up and undamaged from the high winds the night before. He was going at a good pace, that was until he saw him. In his defense it was hard not to stare given the boy’s attire. The boy was roughly eighteen, he estimated, long, slender, with smooth pale skin, dotted with constellations of freckles and moles. In short, he was gorgeous, and much younger than the typical clientele Louis interacted with. But that wasn’t enough, it was almost as if the universe had designed this boy with the intent to destroy Louis as he was clad only in the tiniest yellow speedo that just covered the gentle slope of his arse.

“I can feel you staring, seriously Gerdy if that’s you again I’ll file a complaint with the manager!” the boy called out, shifting his body around so he was hidden from view, the muscles on his lean sides flexing temptingly. 

“Um no, no need to file a complaint. I’m just the help,” Louis replied, his cheeks blushing a bright scarlet color.

“Oh, shit, sorry! That was rude of me to yell,” the boy apologized, sitting up to reveal soft chestnut curls that framed his pretty and yet still somehow masculine features. “Hi, I’m Harry,” he offered, standing up and walking over to back of the boat he was laying on.

“Hello, I’m Louis,” Louis offered, trying to play it cool. “Sorry for staring, it’s just there aren’t many people my age around here, especially ones daring enough to wear something that—yellow,” he added with an impish smirk.

“Yeah, it is rather dull around here isn’t it? Thought I’d offer a splash of color.” Harry chuckled, stretching his arms over his head.

“Color—yeah.” Louis fumbled, his eyes following the well-defined lines of Harry’s abs and hips. “But um, no matter, I won’t bother you again,” he tried to recover shaking his head and beginning to walk away. 

“What if I said I don’t want you to stop?” Harry called after him, causing Louis to stop dead in his tracks.

“Then I’d say you’re looking for trouble,” Louis retorted, maybe flirting a tiny bit with the hopes that Harry would flirt back.  
“I do fancy a bit of trouble now and then, when’s your shift over?” Harry challenged with a wide dimpled smile.

“Two o’ clock, if you’re still looking for trouble then I’d reckon you could find it around back of the clubhouse.” Louis perked up, doing everything in his power to keep himself from jumping up and down like an idiot.

“Sounds like a date.” Harry’s reply came back quickly.

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, guess we’ll find out.” Louis shrugged, walking away and trying to take on a bit of Zayn’s mysterious air by swinging his hips and not looking back. After that, he tried his best to carry on with his work but his mind kept drifting back to ‘two o’ clock’ and ‘sounds like a date’.

***  
Zayn was cut early from work that day, finding, much to the surprise of no one, that the smoke shop business was slow on Tuesday afternoons. He climbed up to the stairs to the flat slowly, cursing the damage smoking since age twelve had done to his lungs. “Shit.” He wheezed as he reached the top, hand shaking a bit as he jammed the key in the lock.

He made his way to the kitchen and opened the fridge, letting out a pleased sigh as the cold air hit his face. “Christ,” he muttered, realizing that their fridge only had some leftover take out pizza in it. 

There was a dinner not far from their flat, and Zayn figured that was a better bet if he wanted a lunch of any sort. It didn’t take him long to get there, only stopping a few times when a rat crossed his path, definitely not a highlight of city living. 

Zayn sat outside underneath a trellis of sorts, an American attempt at sophistication he told himself. He lit a cigarette, perched it between his lips, and read the menu. He was a bit lost in thought for a few moments until the waiter interrupted him.

“Hey neighbor, we’ve got to stop meetin’ like this,” the familiar Irish drawl greeted.

“Niall?” Zayn muttered in disbelief, peering up over his Raybans at his neighbor’s smiling face.

“The one and only.” Niall laughed, clapping Zayn on the shoulder. “Nice shades.” He winked, making a finger gun gesture that only he could make endearing.

“Uh thanks. So you work here?” Zayn replied lamely, taking a drag off his cigarette to try to appear cool.

“Nah, I just like to dress up like a waiter for the craic.” Niall rolled his eyes, pulling out an order ticket pad and a biro. 

“Right, sorry, dumb question.” Zayn huffed, pushing his sunglasses up to hide his eyes.

“No worries mate, I won’t hold it against ya. I happen to live for dumb questions.” Niall chuckled, sitting down in the chair across from Zayn. “Don’t tell my manager,” he warned, putting a finger to his own lips.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, fag?” Zayn offered, reaching for his tin of cigarettes.

“Was that an offer or a question on my sexual orientation?” Niall scoffed, raising an eyebrow at Zayn.

“Oh, um, no I didn’t mean it like that, that’s personal—fuck, cigarette?” Zayn fumbled, trying to recover and doing a shit job of it.

“Jesus, I was just fucking with ya.” Niall barked with a laugh, flashing a blindingly charming smile before taking the item in question from Zayn’s hand.

Zayn shivered as Niall’s warm fingers brushed his palm, cursing himself internally for behaving like one of his teenage sisters. “Here I’ll give ya a light,” he muttered under his breath, pulling a lighter from his other pocket.

“No need.” Niall shrugged, putting the cigarette between his lips and leaning across the table so the end of it brushed against the lit tip of Zayn’s. “See,” he mumbled, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I see,” Zayn whispered, transfixed by the way the late afternoon sun made little shadows from Niall’s eyelashes that rimmed his pretty blue eyes. “So yeah, um, lunch,” he panicked after a moment, realizing it was weird to linger that close to Niall’s face.

“Actually, if ya want, I get off in an hour, you could come by my flat and I’ll make good on that promise of a beer. I’ll grill us some burgers or something too,” Niall offered politely, sitting back in his seat.

“Okay, yeah, sounds good.” Zayn nodded almost mindlessly, his heart rabbitting in his chest at the prospect of being alone in Niall’s flat with him.

“Alright then, you know where to find me. See ya’s later.” Niall winked, stubbing out his cigarette on the table and walking away.

“Fuck,” Zayn cursed quietly, blowing smoke up toward the holes in the lattice as he tried desperately to tell himself not to make this something it wasn’t. 

***  
Louis leaned against the cool brick exterior of the clubhouse as he waited for Harry to (maybe?) show up. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone, deciding it looked more dignified if he busied himself with his mobile rather than waiting like an idiot to be stood up. He sent a few messages to Zayn to pass the time.

‘Hey bro, don’t wait up for me. I’ve got a date! –L’

‘Me too, I think? – Z’

‘What do you mean you think? –L’

‘I don’t exactly know if he’s into blokes. – Z’

‘Ahh, I see. Bit of shit situation to be in innit? –L’

‘Yeah, can’t exactly just casually ask if he’s into sucking cocks or fucking arseholes. –Z’

‘Spoken like a true poet/artist! Good luck bro! –L’

‘Yeah you too, you obnoxious bastard! Z’

Louis sighed deeply as two o’ clock came and Harry was nowhere in sight. He was about to give up and cut his losses at about ten after two when he heard the click of shoes on the dock.

“Hi!” Harry chirped, stopping and standing pigeon toed right in front of Louis, looking down at his scuffed brown boots.

“Hell—oh.” Louis gasped as he looked up at Harry who was clad in quite possibly the tightest black jeans and a tattered Rolling Stones t-shirt. “You, um, you look nice.” He swallowed thickly, putting his phone away and walking toward Harry. 

“Oh, this, I just put it together.” Harry blushed, pushing his blue headscarf back on his curls, he was wearing a fucking headscarf. 

“Well I feel a bit underdressed right now.” Louis chuckled nervously, looking down at his blue boat shoes, red shorts, and short sleeved blue polo. “Actually this uniform is quite tacky innit? Very—American?” He shrugged, peeking back up at Harry through his fringe.

“I like it, it’s kitschy, I like kitschy.” Harry smiled widely, dimples poking through and giving him a childish sort of glow. 

“Well alright then, where are we going?” Louis asked curiously, stepping toward Harry bashfully.

“I thought we could take a walk through the park,” Harry suggested, reaching out a hand toward Louis tentatively.

“Okay.” Louis nodded, taking Harry’s hand and threading their fingers together. “Lead the way.” 

 

***

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Zayn muttered to himself as he changed his t-shirt for about the tenth time, all of them black with some sort of graphic. He liked to appear cool, almost like a James Dean type, a sort of rebel without a cause, only the thing was he really wasn’t at all. When it came down to it, he was just a nerd, with a penchant for binge reading comic books, and smoking, that just so happened to be fortunate enough to be blessed with good looks. 

He wasn’t even sure what he was really worrying about anyway, given that he didn’t even know if Niall had any interest in sucking his cock, or maybe he’d suck Niall’s, either way. The fact was Zayn had a big stupid crush on his fit neighbor that may or may not be straight. 

About five minutes before he was due to be at Niall’s flat he finally decided on plain black shirt, skinny jeans, and leather jacket, ninety degree weather be damned. After smoothing his hair down about five times he decided to suck it up and get over to Niall’s flat. 

“Niall, it’s me Zayn.” He spoke into the intercom once he rang Niall’s flat.

“Hey mate, be right down, just let me find a shirt first,” Niall replied, Zayn desperately hoping that the shirt in question would be nowhere to be found.

Not even a minute later a fully clothed Niall, much to Zayn’s dismay, appeared at the foot of the stairs. “Come on up!” he said cheerily, leading Zayn up the stairs, and if Zayn’s eyes wandered to Niall’s bum, he’d never know.

“Welcome to mi casa,” Niall greeted in a horribly attempted Spanish accent, gesturing to his flat that looked pretty much identical to Zayn and Louis’ except for the giant Irish flag prominently displayed in the living room. 

“Nice, very patriotic,” Zayn teased, pointing to the flag on the wall.

“Oh yeah, I’m a bit proud of my country, not sorry in the least bit.” Niall shrugged, leading Zayn into the kitchen and handing him a beer, a Guiness, of course. “I’ve got steaks on the grill, come on out.” He smiled, waving Zayn out onto the deck. 

“Sick set up you’ve got here.” Zayn nodded as he looked around the fairy lights wrapped around the beams above them and the shiny silver grill on the deck. 

“Can’t take credit for it all, my ex-girlfriend Amy put up the twinkle light things.” Niall shrugged, picking up a spatula and flipping the steaks before closing the heavy grill lid. 

“Oh,” Zayn mumbled a bit defeated, ex-girlfriend he told himself, not boyfriend.

“Nah, don’t feel bad. Things just didn’t work out between us, it wasn’t all bitter or sad or anything like that,” Niall explained, taking a seat on the wooden bench that was positioned just under his window. 

“Ah I see, girls.” Zayn laughed, sitting down next to Niall and taking a swig of his beer.

“Yeah, can’t live with them or without them, something like that. Doesn’t matter really, I’ve sort of been seeing blokes lately. Trying something different,” Niall said casually, leaning back against the bench and setting his beer on the arm. 

“Oh? And how’s that?” Zayn asked curiously, feeling a bit more hopeful.

“Alright I suppose, haven’t really had a proper relationship with one yet. I’ve met a few guys that were fit enough but they were all sort of hit it and quit it types.” Niall sighed, standing up again to check on the grill.

“Sorry mate, I know how that goes. Being bisexual seems like it should make things easier, like bigger dating pool and what not, but it doesn’t,” Zayn sympathized, hoping Niall would zero in on the fact that he was into blokes as well.

“Wait, you too? You’re bi? No way.” Niall laughed, turning back toward him with a goofy grin.

“Yeah, proud card carrying member since I was maybe thirteen,” Zayn crowed, puffing his chest out exaggeratedly.

“Shit, I wouldn’t have guessed that. You’re gorgeous, like a model, and the type of guy statues are made to look like. Though I suppose that makes sense, you can probably get anyone you want,” Niall said only half joking.

“Nah, I’m not all that. Actually I haven’t really dated anyone for a few months. I’m sort of done with the fucking around, looking for ‘the one’ or some bullshit.” Zayn blushed, biting his lip as he looked up at Niall.

“Shouldn’t be hard for you to find that,” Niall said quietly, sitting back down next to Zayn on the bench.

“Yeah, shouldn’t be,” Zayn whispered, leaning in closer to Niall experimentally.

“Nope,” Niall said breathlessly, inching a bit closer to Zayn so their lips brushed.

“Not at all,” Zayn finished before pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss, wanting to test the waters before going all out.

“You—you could do that again,” Niall muttered once their lips parted, his eyes still closed and his breath hitching in his throat.

“Yeah?” Zayn chuckled, going in again, this time nudging his tongue into Niall’s mouth and kissing him properly.

Niall whined softly in response, his arms winding around Zayn’s neck and his lips parting in an invitation for more of whatever he’d give him. 

“Niall,” Zayn interrupted after a few more minutes of heated kisses. “Hey, Niall I think those steaks are burning,” he mumbled, spotting the smoke rolling out of the grill.

“Yeah,” Niall drawled out, moving his lips to Zayn’s neck and sucking on it gently. “Yeah, they are,” he mumbled, nipping at his skin and leaving a small red mark behind. “Shit, the steaks!” he finally registered, the acrid smoke hitting his nose. 

Zayn broke into a fit of laughter as he watched Niall jump up from the bench and open the grill, black smoke rolling out among different variations of the fuck he’d never heard before. He all but fell over onto the deck as Niall used a pair of tongs to fling the offending slabs of meat off the deck into the neighboring yard with a resounding thump.

“Shite, well there’s no coming back from that is there?” Niall laughed after a beat of silence, wiping sweat from his brow with an oven mit.

“No, but there’s always take out. I order a mean orange chicken if you’re in,” Zayn offered with a raised brow.

“I’m in.” Niall responded in way that seemed to imply that the orange chicken wasn’t the only thing on his mind.

***

Louis and Harry had been wandering around the park in question for about twenty minutes, holding hands as they weaved in and out of crowds of tourists and business men and women in a rush to god knows where before they decided to stop. Louis spotted a stand selling Italian ice and insisted on buying one for each of them, cherry for Harry, because it rhymed, and lemon for Louis, because he liked it. They found a wide square of green grass and sat down to enjoy the late afternoon sunshine.

“I quite like these.” Harry smiled, waving his spoon at nothing in particular, his lips stained red from the cherry flavoring.

“Me too and I’m glad because I had no idea what I was ordering.” Louis laughed, licking a bit of yellow ice from his spoon.

“You’re cute,” Harry blurted out, his cheeks turning a shade to match his ice. 

“That’s a new one, can’t say I’ve been called cute before.” Louis tried to play it off, tapping his spoon against the tip of Harry’s nose. 

“But you are!!” Harry defended, drawing out the end of the word childishly as he scrunched his nose. “You’ve got the cutest little button nose, and little crinkles by your eyes,” he complimented, taking another bit of his ice to keep himself from babbling on.

“Well thanks. It’s not often that posh boys call me cute.” Louis beamed, hiding his smile behind his cup.

“M’ not posh, not really. I’m from Cheshire and it just so happened that my mum married rich the second time around.” Harry shrugged, licking at his spoon in a way that would be filthy if it were anyone else but him.

“Cheshire huh? I thought I recognized the accent, I’m a Donny boy myself, born and raised in Doncaster. I’m away at Manchester on a football scholarship for now though,” Louis shared, finding it easy to talk with Harry.

“Football, well that explains why you’ve got such an amazing body,” Harry mumbled quietly, Louis picking up his words anyway. “I’m set to go to Harvard in the fall. That’s why I’m here, my stepdad set me up with his cousins, figured I should get used to living in the States,” he explained, drinking the red liquid at the bottom of his cup before lying back in the grass.

“Wow, Harvard! If you’re so smart, why are you out with me?” Louis huffed, lying down next to Harry on his side. 

“Shut it! It’s not really my choice—well going out with you is, but Harvard isn’t. It’s kind of stupid but I’d rather just go somewhere like Manchester for uni, I just want to be a preschool teacher,” Harry groaned, squinting up at the bright sky.

“That’s not dumb at all, it’s quite adorable actually.” Louis grinned, noticing that Harry had a speck of red syrup just above his lip. “You’ve got a little—“ he started, leaning over to wipe it off, squeaking in surprise when Harry pulled him down for a kiss instead. 

“Is it gone now?” Harry laughed, pulling Louis over so he was top of him.

“Yes, you menace! You could have just asked me for a kiss you know?” Louis huffed, positioning himself so he was straddling Harry’s hips.

“But that wouldn’t have gotten us here, would it?” Harry challenged, placing his hands on Louis’ hips.

“Guess we’ll never know.” Louis sighed dramatically before leaning down and snogging Harry eagerly. He got a bit lost in it all, giggling between kisses and grinding their hips together, only slowing down when he realized his cock was straining against his tight shorts.

“Well, hello there.” Harry smirked, looking down at the bulge in Louis’ shorts. “I hate to inform you, but I don’t put out on the first date,” he teased, biting his lip as he looked up at Louis.

“Shut up.” Louis groaned, going back in for another kiss and trying his best to ignore the constant ache of his rock hard dick. After a few moments he vaguely registered the sound of hushed conversation and quiet giggles. He looked up and much to his horror noticed that a group of school children and their parents were gathered just across the path. “Harry, there’s children watching us!” he gasped, completely mortified.

“Oops,” Harry laughed as he pushed Louis off him and sat up. 

“Hi.” Louis tried giving them a wave before hiding his face against Harry’s shoulder. “And you said I was trouble,” he mumbled.

“It’s always the cute, innocent ones, didn’t you know that?” Harry replied without missing a beat.

“Well I sure as hell do now, curly.” Louis laughed, looking up at him and breaking into a fit of giggles. He’d done it, he told himself, he’d made good on his earlier premonition of finding a sunshiny sort of friend. Harry, his own personal sunbeam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, pure fluff, fluffffff, flufffff
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. ^__^

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii, hope you enjoyed chapter one! Feel free to send me some love in the comments below or at my tumblr littlemisscraic xx


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